


flour, eggs, butter, sugar...

by thelabours



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, M/M, and oikawa has a sweet tooth, futakuchi Can Bake, puns are involved pls be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9875552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelabours/pseuds/thelabours
Summary: in which futakuchi bakes, and oikawa takes advantage of that. naturally, puns ensue and a food fight is involved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> right, so the recipe for milk bread doesn't really call for three eggs (more like,,,half,,,) but eggs are so _versatile_ in the world of puns,,,
> 
> this was born from a conversation with a friend about ships being domestic and ships also being little shits while they're at it, so...
> 
> (yeah so i wrote this because i wanted to indulge myself kms)

The moment Tooru turns the key to the front door and opens it, he’s hit with the most beautiful scent in the world. His brain practically turns to mush, as he enters, announcing his arrival and takes his shoes off.

Not hearing a reply, Tooru heads towards the kitchen, following his nose and curious about what the _heck_ Kenji was doing.

The kitchen air is thick with a sweet, icy smell, not unlike the kind in the ice cream parlour five minutes down the road, to the left of the supermarket. There are cartons of eggs, stacks of flour, sticks of butter and a really large jug of milk (Tooru wonders when they bought that, he has no memory of purchasing such a _ridiculously large monstrosity_ ) laid out on the counter. Tooru can see the timer ticking away merrily atop the oven where, presumably, things are being baked, delectable cookies, luxuriously dense cakes; sachretortS, spongecakes, maybe even (Tooru’s eyes widen at the thought) _a devil’s food cake_. Tooru’s _weak_ to desserts, anything sweet, really.

As he watches Kenji mix the sugar (he uses two kinds, what a _nerd_ ) with butter with a spoon, Tooru’s mind wanders again. What if it’s cookies Tooru nearly cries _because he wants cookies **now**_. Gingerbread, oatmeal, chocolate chip, you name it and Tooru can lecture you for five hours telling you exactly why he loves it so much. It’s a relief on his wallet that Kenji can bake so well, and does so really often, insisting that he ‘feels like it’ and not because he loves Tooru (even though Tooru _knows_ ). 

“Like what you see?” Tooru’s eyes snap up to meet Kenji’s. “Are you just gonna stand there and watch, or are you in the mood to help?” Kenji asks, not pausing the mixing. 

“Nah, I’m good. I really want to eat the brownies you’re making, though.” 

“If you lend a hand, it’ll get done much faster. It’s not brownies, by the way.” Kenji adds as an afterthought. 

Tooru’s in a dilemma. He hates kitchen-work—be it cooking, doing the dishes, cutting vegetables, you name it—but he also really wants to eat whatever tart Kenji’s found the recipe for on the internet. 

“ _Fiiiiiiiine_. I’ll help. But only if you let me lick the batter.” 

“Thanks.” Kenji rolls his eyes, letting the bowl rest on the countertop. “Go wash your hands, and fetch me a packet of flour.” 

“On it.” Tooru washes his hands under the cold water tap and dries them on their ugly green hand towel. Tooru scrunches his nose and makes a mental note to throw it out and buy a new one. (He’s not going to remember it, they didn’t even buy this one, Moniwa and Iwaizumi had picked it out when _they’d_ gone shopping for their new house and sent all sorts of towels and bedsheets to them). 

Tooru looks around for the flour and an idea strikes him. _Ken-chan’s not going to like this_. He smiles and decides to do it anyway. He cuts off the top of a new packet of flour and carefully carries it to where Kenji's standing with the eggs and measuring out more sugar. 

“Thanks Toor—“ 

_Fwiiip_. 

All the flour finds itself atop Kenji’s hair and shoulders. 

“You didn’t tell me where to put it” Tooru is positively giggling, failing to keep in his mirth. 

Kenji doesn’t say a word as Tooru slowly loses it, clutching his middle and laughing hard, kneeling down to ease the pain in his stomach because Ken-chan, your face! Kenji just picks up two eggs, _grins_ , and cracks them on top of Tooru’s head, one after the other. 

The scream Tooru lets loose is close to deafening, and extremely high pitched as it goes: “ _ **KEN-CHAN NOOOOOOOOOOO WHYYYYYYYYY**_ ” 

“The next ingredient was eggs.” Kenji is solemn when he picks up another egg. “Three eggs.” 

And Tooru _runs_. 

The chase begins in the kitchen, leading to the living room (where flour sticks to the giant mirror because Kenji is practically a flour shedding machine), the bedroom (the wall is eggy after Tooru bumps into it) and ends back in the kitchen, where Kenji has Tooru captured, with his back to the countertop. 

“I’m sure we can talk about this…” Tooru trails off, trying to find something to use as ammunition. 

“No mercy for flour attackers.” Kenji is ready to break the egg, a smirk breaking on his face. he’s enjoying this way too much. 

“Well, that’s an egg-cellent argument, but you know what’d be batter? THIS!” and flicks the wooden spoon at Kenji’s face. Which now has a brown, buttery lump on it. The sight is too much for Tooru, who dissolves into helpless giggles once again. 

It’s only when Kenji reaches for the (ludicrously sized) jar of milk that Tooru calls for mercy. “I’m sorry!” He whines. Kenji blinks at him through his butter-lined eyelashes and sighs. “Fine. Go shower, you eggy douche.” 

“Thanks, I’ll sweggway myself out.” 

“You’re being eggravating now. Quit loafing around.” 

“Shut up, my yolks crack you up just fine.” 

“your yolks make me feel like you have egg on your face— _oh wait a minute, you already do!_ ” 

“Eggscuse me? Don’t get toasty with me, young man.” 

“Don’t you mean, ‘I bread your pardon’? Eggcelerate yourself out of this kitchen.” 

“The yeast you could do is apologise, now my hair’s gonna smell of egg all day.” Tooru moves to touch his head and winces. It’s cold and wet and _smelt of egg. **Gross.**_

Kenji notices the underlying upset in Tooru’s voice and presses his lips to Tooru’s chin (where the egg hasn’t claimed dominion) and says softly, “go take a shower, egghead, eggs are good for your hair, right?” 

Tooru ends up spending way too long showering and trying out (and nearly emptying) all the shampoo he and Kenji have. The steam is rich with the smell of almond-honey-milk-butter-strawberries-and-cream. He carefully dries his hair (it doesn’t smell of egg anymore unless he tries really really hard) and the scent makes him hungry. 

He calls out for Kenji, but the following silence makes him wonder if Kenji is angry at him. _Maybe I shouldn’t’ve dumped_ all _the flour…_

And then he sees _it_ : 

On the table sit two still warm loaves. They are a little heavy due to Kenji’s presumable eagerness to bake them, cutting back on their rising time. So much planning for such an innocuous mixture of flour, water and yeast; so much anticipation; yet so little comprehension of the consequences of his acts…Tooru’s heart fills with love to the brim as he bites the soft treat. _Milk bread_. There’s a note next to it, too: 

_To my Loaf,_  
_I’m not sorry I got egg in your hair because there’s flour all over the kitchen and I cleaned it, so consider this a reward for all the dishes you’re washing today. I’m in the shower, don’t forget to leave me a bite._

The prospect of doing the dishes (Tooru cringes mentally at the word _dishes_ ) is nothing in the wake of the agglomeration of crumb, crust, and saccharine goodness that the _literal love of his life_ made. For _him_. He’s going to buy Kenji an entire shop’s worth of sour gummies tomorrow. 


End file.
